


Get It Up

by MadAndy



Category: Helloween (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAndy/pseuds/MadAndy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragging the blanket behind him, pillow tucked under his arm, Sascha trailed from the room.</p>
<p>Written in 2006</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get It Up

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Although this tale features characters that share an awful lot of characteristics with the individuals who go to make up the featured rock band, it isn't them. I'm fully aware of that fact; they're completely their own people, and this is a fantasy based on their stage personas, interviews and other material in the public domain. No malice or impeachment is intended to the band, their families, friends, management companies or anyone else involved with them in any way, shape or form. No money is being made from this tale, it's written purely for the enjoyment of the author...and her readers. 
> 
> It's fiction. Enjoy it as such.

****

_Get It Up_

“Go, now. I have a phone call to make.”

“But--”

“Go. Out. Come back when I tell you.”

“But--”

Weiki turned his head and glared. “Out!”

“But--”

Sascha was almost bowled over by the pillow and blanket thrown at him by his irate room mate.

“You would prefer the balcony, perhaps?”

Dragging the blanket behind him, pillow tucked under his arm, Sascha trailed from the room. You didn’t argue with Weiki when his eyes flashed like that; you would lose, and badly. Something he’d learned early and well in his stint with Helloween.

So whose hospitality could he count on? Andi’s?

No. His wife had flown out to join him for a few dates of the tour so they’d vanished early to their room and were - he paused outside the door, listening to the noises within - still very busy, from the sounds of it.

He sighed, and continued down the hallway thinking hard, accompanied only by the soft swishing sound of the blanket trailing on the floor behind him. He knew that Dani had gone out drinking with his techs, so that meant Markus had a spare bed in his room. Good. And if Dani came back after he was asleep, he’d give him his key card and he could go see if Weiki was done yet. Let him get glared at and be ordered out onto the balcony. After all, he was the new kid now.

Grumbling followed the knock on the Markus’ door, and Sascha bit his lip. It wasn’t that late, surely?

He dropped his head when Markus yanked the door open, squinting into the light of the hallway. Nibbling on his lower lip he canted his gaze up through lashes and fringe; he knew it made him look vulnerable and young, and figured that if he had an advantage he ought to use it; after all, the perenially cheerful bassist wasn’t looking very happy tonight.

“Sascha.”

“Markus. Can I come in?”

The curly head tilted and Markus sighed, dropping his head back to thump against the shiny woodwork of the doorframe.

“Weiki threw me out. I wasn’t,” he added quickly, “doing anything wrong. Or annoying. He just wanted to be alone to--”

He was waved inside, hesitating when he crossed the threshold; even in the slice of warm illumination spilling through the door he could see that the other bed in the room was occupied. There was a strong smell of beer and sex in the air, and he turned to Markus with a question written in his eyes; the snoring from the tangle of bodies sounded very masculine, not a trace of feminine sleep-noises to be heard. Markus snorted.

“Dani got back with the others - and since his tech was kicked out of his room they decided to share here. Noisy bastards have only just got to sleep.”

Dani?

“He and his...?”

Markus winked up at his young friend, amused at the expression of shock across the innocent face. “How long is Weiki going to be busy?”

Sascha blinked back at his colleague then shrugged, beginning to feel a little more miserable. Eastern Europe, touring in the winter, and he could hear the balcony calling him.... snow, icy wind and all.

“Who knows. You know what he’s like when he gets talking.”

Markus snorted, turning away from the door and heading back for his bed. He threw a naughty little glance over his shoulder, and grinned at the tall, rather woebegone figure standing outlined against the light.

“Well, as long as you promise not to snore you can share mine....”

Settling back into the bed and closing his eyes Markus smothered a smile in the pillow when the light from the hall went out, and footsteps approached. Hesitant, yes, but definitely coming this way. Lying here staring at the ceiling listening to the noises from the other bed had been a nightmare; he’d already jerked off once but it hadn’t done any good. And then here was Weiki’s little brother, all pouty and tousled, looking for a bed for the night.

Had to be worth a try, right?

The mattress bounced and shifted a bit, and he shuffled back; not much room in here, but should be just enough. Mind you, Sascha’s feet would hang off the end just as his did but that was a hazard of hotels when you were as tall as they both were. Just something you learned to cope with.

A soft whoosh as pillow and blanket were dumped next to the bed, and Sascha’s long, cool form wriggled into the bed next to him.

“Move over.”

“I am moved over.”

More shuffling, and Markus felt Sascha’s hip bump into his own. Despite it not being a single bed, there really wasn’t much room; not nearly enough, it turned out, for two monsters like themselves. Markus tried to keep the amusement out of his voice, and grumbled at Sascha while he wriggled and twisted, trying to get comfortable.

“Elbows, Sascha.”

“I can’t help it!”

“Try. There’s a balcony here, too.”

More wriggling and grunting, peppered with the occasional yelp as a hard corner of bone caught some soft piece of flesh until Markus rolled up onto his side and shot the youngster as ferocious a glare as he could muster.

“Enough. Lie on your back.”

Now he’d find out, wouldn’t he? Sascha looked up at him, eyes wide in the gloom; enough light sneaked through the curtains to show him worrying on that pouty lower lip while he considered Markus’ request - order, rather. Nodding to himself, he rolled obediently to his back, tucking his arms behind his head and smiling shyly.

“Good,” muttered Markus, and tucked himself into Sascha’s side, putting his head on his chest and permitting himself a small grin at the kid’s yelp of surprise.

“Markus, what...?”

He mumbled, rubbing the side of his face against the chest under his cheek. “Lie still and go to sleep.”

“But--”

“Balcony.”

He almost snickered when the single word had Sascha muttering and shifting under him; he caught the word ‘Weiki’ in the mumblings, and had no doubt that he was being compared to his short-tempered bandmate. Sascha lay still, seeming to accept the arrangement; after a little while long arms looped around Markus’ shoulders, accompanied by a grumble that indicated it was just for comfort, nothing more.

He waited until the kid’s breathing began to smooth out, then slid one hand down Sascha’s flank, calloused fingertips teasing along the long lines of muscle.

Sascha stopped breathing, and Markus waited for the explosion.

Which didn’t, much to his surprise, actually happen. Sascha began to breathe again; long deep breaths, not of sleep, but of anticipation. His hand resumed its dance, skimming the hip and rolling over the top of the long thigh. Tease there, and begin the long journey back up; hang a left by the pec, lazy little detour around the nipple - ah, quick catch of the breath there - then down the line of hair all the way to the bottom, where it fanned out into a dark thatch under the boxers--

Sascha hissed into the darkness, tightening his arms around Markus.

Who was wondering if this was really happening. Here he was, copping a most blatant feel, and the kid was just lying there?

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, he stretched himself along his bed partner’s side, rubbed his hardon against his thigh. Still nothing? Right, try this....

Sliding his hand into Sascha’s boxers he closed his fingers over a smooth, silky, and very very hard cock, giving it a couple of firm strokes then moving down to fondle the heavy balls underneath, twisting his legs around Sascha’s and grinning into his chest. Let’s see you lie there and pretend nothing’s happening now, he thought cheerfully as he returned to stroking that enthusiastic cock.

Not a chance. Sascha arched and swore under his breath, bucking his hips into Markus’ grip and pulling him close. His arms drew in, urging Markus up; he wriggled up him, still pumping his hand, and grinned right into Sascha’s flushed face.

“Nice?”

No reply, just a hand grabbing his hair and dragging him in for a kiss. No slow, sweet exploration, this; no, hot clash of mouths and teeth, plunging tongues and spit sliding through stubble. Rough and desperate, he startled even Markus with the decisiveness of his response, which was nothing compared to his reaction at what the kid did next.

A long arm snaked around his waist, yanking him over to lie on top of him, and legs locked around his own. Sascha’s hips bucked up, grinding his cock against Markus’, and he snarled into his neck. Nipping at the skin he found there and scratching his nails up his friend’s back he had Markus rearing back with an astonished gasp.

“What the-?”

Sascha dropped flat, grabbing Markus’ hair in his fists and holding his face a scant few inches from his own.

“You want to fuck, old man?”

Well, yeah.

“Old?”

“You want to fuck me?” snapped Sascha, eyes wide in the gloom, body trembling with the force of whatever the fuck it was Markus had unwittingly unleashed.

“Well, yeah. If you--”

“Then fuck me,” he growled, pulling him down again for another of those ferocious, savage kisses.

Somehow, they both managed to shed the clinging inconvenience of boxer shorts without too many yelps of pain; knees and elbows flying, bedclothes writhing like live things they came to rest again, Markus pinning the slightly longer frame of the kid to the too-small bed and grinning down into his face.

“You sure?”

“Just fuck me, right?”

“Whatever you say,” he huffed, reaching one arm to snag the lube from the nightstand. Sascha snorted, grinding his cock against Markus’ again.

“Organised.”

“it’s Dani’s,” he muttered, trying to balance on top of Sascha while he squirted a generous amount into his palm, squinting in the darkness to be sure he didn’t spill it. “Stole it earlier to have a wank.”

Sascha gasped a laugh, angling his hips up to nudge his cock against Markus’ hand where it slicked the lube against his own, hissing with the sting of the cold against the heat of his skin. Lowering a finger to rub against Sascha’s arse, Markus tilted an eyebrow at him.

“I didn’t know you liked guys.”

“There’s lots you don’t know - fuck! - about me.”

“True,” he mumbled, dropping his face to nibble along Sascha’s throat, lapping at the sweat gathering there as he fucked the kid slowly with his finger, adding a second and then a third when the gasping and cursing indicated a growing desperation on the part of his partner. 

“But will you--”

“Markus!”

“--still respect me--”

“Argh!”

“--in the morning?” asked Markus with a grin, pushing the head of his cock inside Sascha’s well stretched hole and drawing a high pitched screech from him. Markus snorted with amusement, leaned his weight forward and slid inside. Holding for a moment he relished the feel of the youngster wriggling around his cock, yelping and scratching, demanding that Markus get on and fuck him, already.

Ever glad to oblige such a charmingly phrased request he arched his back, pushing Sascha up the bed before drawing back and doing it again, long slow strokes, closing his eyes the better to feel the clutch of the soft, hot flesh around every ridge and bump of his cock. Sascha swore again, locking his legs around Markus’ waist and urging him deeper with his heels, kicking him on to more, harder, faster.

“The fuck?” muttered a voice, and they both froze.

Dani fell from the other bed with a thump, and paused to squint at the rest of the rhythm section balls deep in the junior division of the guitars. Markus gave him a rather weak grin.

“Er. Hi Dani.”

He flapped a hand and resumed his stumble toward the bathroom, clicking the light on and swearing sulfurously before being very noisily sick. Markus and Sascha stared at each other in the reflected light, neither too sure what they ought to do next. 

And when Dani stuck his head round the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his cheek, the two faces that regarded him - one the right way up, one upside down, both rather startled - made him snort toothpaste down his chin.

“Carry on,” he said, and vanished back inside. Hurried mouth cleaning noises ensued, and Markus collapsed on top of Sascha, hooting with laughter that bordered on the hysterical. It took a few moments, but before long Sascha was snorting too, giving Markus’ arse little kicks to encourage him to finish what he’d started. The light in the bathroom clicked off, and the pair of them watched Dani stumble back to bed with something akin to wonder; a few more grumbles as the the occupants of the other bed made themselves comfortable, and silence reigned once more.

“Weird,” muttered Markus, beginning to pump his cock in Sascha’s arse again.

Any response that might have been made was lost in a gasp driven from him when he changed the angle of his hips, pulling one of Sascha’s legs higher on his side and reaching for that place he knew would have the youngster waking up the rest of the hotel, never mind the other occupants of the room. Indeed, the man under him yelped when he felt the head of his cock bounce over the bump he’d been aiming for; hissing his satisfaction with his aim he increased his pace, half turning the kid on his side and pounding into his arse before they could get interrupted again.

The grumpy sounds from the other bed were lost in Sascha’s yell of lust as he arched his back, clutching at Markus’ forearms and driving his body onto that long, thick cock, heat clamping hard on it while his come splashed across the bedclothes, sticky warmth sliding across their bodies and starting a chain reaction inside Markus. The white heat began in the back of his head, blinded and deafened him as it roared through his body, grabbed him by the balls and exploded into the body of the writhing man under him, the noises they made only being interrupted by a pillow impacting the back of Markus’ head.

“Shut the fuck _up_ , already!”

Snorting, the two men collapsed into a sweaty, panting heap on the cheap hotel bedclothes; Markus couldn’t get his breathing under control and even Sascha was shaking with a combination of aftershock, amusement and embarrassment.

Silence fell, only broken by the rustling of four men trying to get comfortable in two beds that were definitely too small for the amount of flesh contained within them; the rustling and breathy swearing continued for a moment before Dani cursed aloud.

“You bastards - I can’t get back to sleep now. Fuck.”

A muttered growl, and when Markus turned his head he could just make out another shape in the gloom, shuffling down the other bed and settling in the region of Dani’s pelvis. A happy sigh, and he saw a movement that seemed to indicate that their drummer had tucked both his hands behind his head, ready to enjoy the blowjob that was - by the sucking, slurping noises - now in progress.

Sascha pinched his hip, and nuzzled his face under Markus’ ear.

“You want another one?” he asked, rubbing his come-slick cock against Markus’ hip. The older man cocked his head at him.

“You’re _kidding_.”

“No....”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

“Ah, the enthusiasm of youth,” snorted a voice from the darkness.

“Shush,” laughed Markus, rolling to his back and pulling Sascha on top of him before he could fall over the edge of the bed, “don’t discourage him.”

~*~

It was dawn by the time Sascha trailed back to the room he shared with Weiki, dragging blanket and pillow behind him once more.

Woken by the sound of clumsy fumbling with the lock - followed by a great deal of muttering and thumping - by the time Sascha got through into the room Weiki was sitting up in bed, ever present cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, sheets pulled up around his waist. He watched his younger colleague waddle round to his own bed, dumping blanket and pillow on it before stretching out with a sigh. He dangled arms and legs off the side, smiling tired bliss at the ceiling. 

Ice blue eyes glittered with amusement, and one black eyebrow arched.

“Good night, was it?”

Sascha just grinned, wriggling around until he was occupying almost every inch of the bed.

“So I should throw you out more often, then?”

Luckily, Sascha’s aim with a pillow was dreadful. His cursing, however, had Weiki snorting so hard it appeared he was going to do himself an injury; his wicked expression suggested that this wouldn’t be the last Sascha heard of this incident, not for a very long time. But in the end even Weiki was yawning, and the torture had to stop in order to catch up on missed sleep.

Shutting the light off once more, the two men settled down to sleep away what remained of the night while the snow piled up on the balcony.

“Weiki?”

“Go to sleep.”

“If you want the room to yourself again....”

“Yes?”

“The answer is no.”

_We’ll see about that,_ thought Weiki with a smug grin, then turned over and drifted off to sleep.

_~Fin~_  



End file.
